


Call Him Back

by Angelwithwingsoffire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mage Stiles Stilinski, medieval times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 22:52:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3151316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelwithwingsoffire/pseuds/Angelwithwingsoffire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has been alive over two hundred years, learning and using magic to keep himself alive and to keep his village from killing him for his 'satanic' powers. But he has a reason for it. That reason being a creature that lost control after saving his life and refused to die and leave his husband to live alone in fear forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Him Back

**Author's Note:**

> I know the title and summary aren't very good but I couldn't figure out anything better.  
> Also this sorta based on this tumblr post [x](http://perfectalphadouchebag.tumblr.com/post/106016451034/peoplemask-larissafae-whatamievensaying)

Stiles was wide awake, listening, when Scott burst into his house.

“They found him.” Scott said, breathing hard from running across the village.

Stiles shot to his feet, grabbed the bag he always kept by the door, and together the two of them ran from the hut. They sprinted from Stiles’s small hut by the edge of the forest into the village and soon Stiles could hear the noises. Men shouting. Women shouting. Children crying. Dogs barking. Chains rattling. And a wolf snarling.

They sprinted into the village square and Stiles stopped dead at the sight before. Torches were lit all around and all the men had pitchforks or spears out and they were all shouting and the chaos would have been overwhelming to Stiles after so long of not being around the whole village at once if it wasn’t for what was in the center of the square.

Right in the middle of the square was a creature. It was part animal-part human. There was a collar around its neck that chained it to the village’s solid iron pole sunk deep into the ground and it snarled whenever someone got to close or a man jabbed his spear a little too far. It was growling at the women as well, but it never snapped at one of the children.

“It’s him.” Stiles gasped in awe, his mind flashing back to the last time he’d seen this creature.

 

_“Let me go.” Derek had snarled, his body shaking in pain and his voice pinched. There was blood dripping from his claws and Jackson’s body was lying at his feet. The man should have known than to touch a Hale’s partner, especially on their wedding night, but he was dumb and Derek reacted violently._

_“No.” Stiles had said firmly, despite his body shaking with fear and adrenaline. He’d thought he was going to be raped before he could even celebrate his marriage with his new husband and now his husband was a killer and was falling apart in front of him. He was younger in the memory, his hair shorn short from the summer heat that had surrounded them where they stood in the village square. “Tell me what’s wrong.”_

_“I can’t!” Derek had roared at Stiles, sending him stumbling a few steps back in fear at what he saw. Derek’s face had changed, become more animalistic, and when he’d roared Stiles had seen clear as day the fangs his mouth now held. And his eyes glowed bright blue, unnaturally bright under the night sky. But the look in those blue eyes, the protective glare that was clear in the glow, that was still Derek. And so he had known this was as well._

_“You can always tell me.” Stiles had said firmly. He had known this was his husband and he had refused to let his husband suffer through whatever was making him writhe in agony without standing at his side._

_“I’m a monster.” Derek had snarled. “Let. Me. Go.”_

_“Never.” Stiles had snapped back._

_All that was left of the memory was the glowing blue eyes coming closer fast and waking up in the village square surrounded by people with torches and spears shouting about going after the monster._

 

“Are you sure?” Scott asked, snapping Stiles back to the present.

Stiles nodded. “I can feel him inside. That’s him.”

“Then save him.” Scott whispered. “Only you can call him back.”

Stiles flashed back again at the words. The same one’s his father had said to him on his deathbed.

 

_He had always been afraid that his father thought him insane, just like the rest of the village. He’d refused to let them go after the creature that was killing their animals. He had instead gone out by himself and spent a night with the herds and they’d never been touched again. He had quit his apprenticeship under his father to become the next village sheriff and instead moved to a hut by himself at the edge of the Dark Forest and taken up studies. He knew people called him a witch and a monster for he stopped ageing a decade later and now he stood at his father’s death bed at the age of fifty and still looking he was thirty. But he also knew that none of them would come after him for he healed their wives and kids of maladies and the always had good harvests when he blessed the crops. But he knew they thought him insane still. But apparently his father did not._

_“Son.” His father whispered._

_“I’m here dad.” Stiles whispered back, picking up his father’s hand. He wished he could cure old age like he cured the sicknesses that swept through the town, but he could not. Instead he had to watch his father die._

_“Do you still look for him?” His father asked._

_Stiles nodded. “Always.”_

_When he started his studies, he looked into every manner of magic or shapeshifting. And he’d found the werewolf. The monster of the night that was a man by day and a wolf by night until they lost control and became a monster forever, only able to be brought back by someone who loved them. And he had known then that he must find Derek, for only he had to help him. He had told his dad of his quest and his dad had told him that he must do what he must do. And so his father had been helping him before he had been forced by old age and weak bones to stop the monthly midnight treks into the forest._

_“You will find him.” His father whispered. “I know you will. And then save him. For only you can.”_

_Those had been his father’s last words before he fell into a deep sleep from which he never awoke._

 

“Go.” Scott whispered, nudging Stiles forward.

Stiles nodded, took a deep breath, and stepped into the torchlight, striding towards the creature with his bag in hand.

The villagers fell silent as they saw him approach. Everyone knew the stories of the man who did not age. The man who was older than all of them and looked to be amongst the younger men. The man who could hold fire in his palm with a word or a cure a deadly cough within a matter of days with poultices and potions. Everyone knew of the Witch-Man called Stiles.

“This is the creature who has been eating our cattle.” The village chief called to him. He seemed unafraid of the wolf-creature but he looked terrified as Stiles slid his steady gaze to him.

“No it isn’t.” Stiles told him calmly. “In fact, this isn’t even a creature of the forest.”

The villagers were dead silent. It was not often the Witch-Man argued with the Chief but the Chief never won.

“How so?” The chief demanded, trying to hold on to a semblance of power.

“Shut up and watch.” Stiles said. He walked forward and he could almost hear the tension rising. He could definitely feel it. He was in reach of the creature but it wasn’t attacking yet. Stiles dropped the bag and held out his hand as he took a few more steps forward.

“I’m right here.” He spoke softly, his words obviously directed at the creature. “It’s time to come back.”

The wolf took a tentative step forward,  still not near him though.

Stiles smiled. “Derek Hale. It’s time for you to come home.”

Everything was silent as the creature reached out a paw and as everyone watched the hair melted away and by the time it made contact with Stiles’s hand, it was a human hand connected to a dark-haired man with hazel eyes and a shy smile. Stiles reached up to touch the collar and it fell away, leaving him free.

Stiles smiled at him and they both dove forward to pull the other into a tight hug.

“Welcome back.” Stiles whispered.

Derek just whined.

“It’s okay.” Stiles told him. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“You waited?” Derek whispered. “I know it’s been a while.”

“Two hundred years.” Stiles nodded. “But I had to wait. I couldn’t leave you all alone.”

“But you’re okay?”

“I found friends.” Stiles told him. “Werewolves are accepted now. We learned how to control the shift better. It’s safe now.”

The last of the tension flowed from Derek’s body. He’d been terrified that he’d just shifted back in front of a village of people who hated him.

“We’re okay.” Derek sighed.

“We’re okay.” Stiles repeated, grinning. "You're back, we're okay, and I love you."

Derek's heart filled with warmth at those words. He'd thought he'd never hear them again. "I love you too."


End file.
